


Welcoming Committee

by Fire_Bear



Series: Daddy's Dream Dad [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Choose Your Own Adventure, Choose your own relationship, Dream Daddy AU, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, First Meetings, Flirting, M/M, Multi, dead main character, introductions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 07:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17524541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: With his daughter going to college in a few months, Lance moves them to a smaller house - he doesn't want to be alone with the memories of his dead wife in a house too big for him. They move there, thinking that life will be quiet.But Lance didn't count on being surrounded by hot, single dads.





	Welcoming Committee

**Author's Note:**

> ... I played Dream Daddy on New Year's Day when I was stuck at my friend's house while public transport wasn't a thing. And... well... I got really into it.
> 
> A stray though about how Keith would basically be Robert, kick started this... 
> 
> I've not put relationships in the tags because this is like the beginning of the game, before Dadbook, when you're meeting everyone. Lance is gonna flirt with everyone but nothing goes further than that, so I decided there was no point in putting those tags in. (With the exception of Curtis. I forgot about him but added him in so that Shiro can still have his happy ending, even if he's not with Lance.)
> 
> This is going to be in a series so, when you get to the end of this story, you can move onto whichever relationship you want. Like, if you wanna see what happens with Hunk, you'd go to the Hunk story directly after reading this. (Not that I've written that yet.) This is with the exception of Keith's route which deviates from the general story here. And... I found out about the cult ending and decided that Kuron can have a route, too. For those, I'll add a bit in the middle of the story to direct people to the right storyline.
> 
> The problem here is that... I'm not sure whose story I want to get to once I've finished this general one. So, I reckon people should comment with whose route you'd like to see written first!
> 
> Finally... I know I just started this but I mainly wrote this to get this out of my system for now. I have a few other stories I wanna concentrate on (cause I miss writing for them) so updates will likely be slow.
> 
> Also, Allura's dead in this and I'm sorry but... *gestures vaguely at the game*

Lance stood up from where he had sealed the final box and stretched, hands finding their way to the small of his back. He groaned to cover up the audible crack. Slumping back into a normal position, he put his hands on his hips and surveyed the large room. Except for the furniture that they were leaving - some old chairs, a fancy sofa, a drinks cabinet that they’d used for storing DVDs - the room was empty. Boxes had been shoved into every available space, piled high or squeezed into rows. There was only a few spaces where the pale blue carpet was visible and Lance was standing at the end of a little path that led to the door.

“Dad!” came the voice of his daughter. “Dad, the moving van’s here!”

Turning, Lance saw Angela come jogging into their living room. Strands of light brown hair were escaping her messy ponytail: both of them had decided that there was no point in making an effort when they were doing a lot of heavy lifting. A blue jewel was in her left ear and a pink one adorned her right, both of them bright and shining against her dark skin. She was wearing an entirely second-hand outfit that Lance knew was made up of some things that her mother had given to her. A loose pink vest, worn over a tighter white one, draped down to her hips where it brushed against a pair of three-quarter length jeans. When she entered the room, she gave Lance a fond smile.

“Already?” Lance asked. “They’re rather early.”

“Yeah,” Angela said, looking amused. “Have you packed away all the embarrassing stuff yet?”

“How dare you?!” Lance exclaimed, fighting off a smile. “I don’t _own_ any embarrassing stuff.”

“ _Sure_ , you don’t,” Angela said, her smile widening.

Shaking his head, Lance looked around at the boxes. “That’s almost everything. There’s just… one more box we need to pack.” He raised his gaze to Angela’s and her expression grew somber. She nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about. It was going to be the most difficult thing for them both to do.

“Yeah…” she said, trailing off to chew at her lip. “What about the movers?”

“I’ll deal with that,” Lance assured her. “You… You go get started, okay?” Even as he smiled at Angela encouragingly, he felt a pang in his chest, like a sharp splinter had shifted deep within his heart. He took a deep breath and gestured to the door when he noticed his daughter’s reluctance. “Go on.”

“Dad… Are you sure?” Angela asked, her smile completely gone now. She looked as pained as Lance felt. It just made Lance feel worse: Angela shouldn’t be making that expression or worrying about _him_.

“I’m sure,” Lance insisted. “Now, go on, darling. I’m fine.”

“Okay…”

They went their separate ways, Angela heading to the parlour - Lance sometimes still couldn’t get over the fact that this house had a _parlour_ \- and Lance to the front door. He made sure to keep his conversation with the moving men brief and explained that there was one more thing they had to pack away and then they’d come help. All the muscular guys seemed more than willing to do all the work, some of them already flexing a little as they wandered in. Lance had to force himself to stop staring at them and make his way back down the hall.

When Lance entered the parlour, it was to find Angela sitting on her usual chair, one they weren’t taking with them. She hadn’t started on the packing and the empty box sat between her and Lance’s usual chair. Everything they were taking from this room was already set out on the table, had always been set on the table, ever since Lance finally found it within himself to come in here after the accident. His heart ached dully as he stepped over the box and settled into the chair. Angela only acknowledged him with a glance.

On the table was a framed photo of Angela’s mother. It was the perfect one to remember Allura by: it had been taken at their wedding by the wedding photographer at the exact moment she had laughed at something Lance had said to her. There was a wide smile lighting up her face, her eyes crinkled up, the tiny bluebird tattoo under her eye taking flight - so miniscule that it looked almost like a curved line - the bright colour a clearly seen on her dark skin. Her hair had been half pinned up, the rest draped in flowing curls around her shoulders that Lance had been worried he’d catch on his watch whenever he put his arm around her. The elegant dress she had worn that day was just visible in the frame, but this picture didn’t do it justice, unlike the others they had in the photo albums: instead, it made Lance smile, easing the pain of his loss.

Surrounding the frame was a gathering of things that Allura had liked when she was alive. There was her large hairbrush that looked like it was made of silver but was actually made of a sturdy, shiny plastic. It still had long hairs tangled around the bristles but Lance couldn’t bring himself to clean it. A set of books she was fond of were still in their box, dull spines showing the seven titles of the Chronicles of Narnia. They were old and well-used since they had belonged to Allura’s mother, who had read them to her when she was a little girl. Allura had loved their magic and the characters; she had once told both Lance and Angela that she used to pull open every wardrobe in everyone’s houses looking for the magic portal. She had always been disappointed but that didn’t stop her from reading the books to Angela. Lance remembered leaning against the door frame, watching them both excitedly gasp over Mr. Tumnus and Aslan. After the accident, Angela had seen how it pained Lance to hold those books in his hands and, just like the beautiful daughter she was, had bought a new set so that he could read them to her.

In front of that was a gathering of cat ornaments in a variety of different poses. Each one had something different about it to mark the countries they had been gathered from. One wore a beret and held a paintbrush. Another batted at the fluffy hat that the guards outside of Buckingham Palace traditionally wore. With a curving, fluffy tail, another one leaned against the Colosseum. Beside that was one which was curled under a sakura tree. Another one’s mouth was open, presumably meowing, in front of Sydney’s Opera House. All of them were from before Lance had met Allura but she treasured each of them. They contained her memories of the friends she had made and the adventures she had been on. Lance remembered every story she had told him about them, though he could never see them in the way that she had. Those images, those pictures in her head, those _memories_ were all gone: all that remained were the ornaments and the photos in the albums that had been packed away.

A jewellery box, pretty and set with sapphires - a gift from her father - contained all her favourite jewellery. Neither Lance nor Angela had bothered opening it to sort through what was there. Lance had only opened it once since her death: to carefully place her engagement and wedding ring inside. Beside it was a neatly folded scarf, pink and rather worn. Compared to the richness of the jewellery, it was handmade - by Lance himself. It had been one of his first gifts to her. He remembered when he’d given it to her, cheeks a little pink as he handed it over under some Christmas lights. _Did you make it pink because it’s a ‘female’ colour?_ she had asked with an amused expression, eyebrow raised. Lance had assured her it was because he knew it was her favourite colour, just as she had mentioned in passing once. He had tried to give the scarf to Angela once, and he’d entered the room to find it with Allura’s image instead.

This room was a place that both Lance and Angela could come to remember Allura without upsetting each other, or when they needed a moment alone. Lance came the most often, he was sure. It had become a habit to enter the room with a grimace, seeking advice that wouldn’t come to him naturally as their daughter grew up. Allura had missed a huge chunk of Angela’s life. And Lance knew that Angela missed her. They both did.

So the parlour had become, as it had already been, Allura’s room. For ten years, the room barely changed. They dusted, of course, a quiet activity they sometimes did together when they deemed it fit. Neither of them needed to say anything about Allura’s abrupt death: a car accident when Allura was driving home from her office. Lance had been looking after Angela when the police came to break their little family.

Overnight, the large family house became too big. Lance had worried about so many things over those next difficult months. Allura’s father, Alfor had alleviated some of it for them when he insisted they stay in his second home. It had been a gift to Allura from him in the first place, a home further inland from the coastal cities their businesses expanded across, one that Alfor had ceased using. At first, Lance had been uncomfortable in such an expensive-looking place. But Allura had eased him into it and it had been his home for so long. Yet, Lance didn’t want to have to rely on Alfor’s charity and his family’s help in order to live and raise his daughter any longer. Besides, Angela would be leaving for college soon and he didn’t want to live in a house filled with memories and empty spaces.

“Come on, Angel Cake,” said Lance, gently. “It’s time.”

Angela looked up at him with a pained expression. “We’re not going to… It’s not gonna _stay_ in the box, right?” she asked.

“Of course not,” said Lance, firmly. “We’re going to put it out somewhere. Like on a bookcase.” He reached over and gripped Angela’s arm, smiling at her. “I’m not going to forget her, you know. How could I when I see so much of her in you?”

With a bark of strained laughter, Angela shook her head. “ _Dad_!”

“I’m serious,” Lance told her. “You’re strong and sweet and you’re gonna be amazing, just like her.”

Cheeks turning red, Angela shook her head. “Okay, Dad. I get it. You’re overly emotional today.”

Lance wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “I’m just so _proud_!”

“Oh, God,” Angela breathed and grabbed the box.

Unable to keep from smiling at her embarrassment, Lance slid forward to help her carefully pack all the items into the box. They carefully wrapped the ornaments in the bubble wrap Lance had set aside for this very purpose - Allura had thrown out the boxes they had come in long ago. Both of them moved slowly, carefully, fussing over each item as they put the things inside. Finally, they laid the photograph on top of everything so that the laughing Allura was the last thing they saw when they closed the box. Lance sealed it and lifted it; Angela opened doors for him as he made his way to the car.

Outside, the moving van had pulled up behind his old, blue Toyota Corolla. The men were in the process of rearranging boxes in order to manoeuvre Angela’s desk into the van. Lance didn’t bother heading towards it. Instead, he made his way to his car where he placed the box in the passenger seat: he figured that Angela would want to hold onto it and he was loathe to have it sliding around the car, anyway.

Once he’d done that and shut the door, he swung the door closed and turned to see Angela standing at the gate. Lance saw that she was looking back at it and he raised his gaze. The building towered above the hedges which surrounded it. Dark brown stones had been used to build the house, warm and pristine. White trimmed windows stared blankly down, the darkness beyond testament to its emptiness. Its roof was a cheerful red tile, all neat and tidy, cleaned by Lance a few weeks before in preparation for the move: Alfor may not have been planning to sell, but Lance didn’t want to leave the place dirty. Still, looking at the building that Lance had spent over a decade of his life in and that Angela had grown up in, Lance felt a pang of grief and regret and sorrow. But he took a deep breath and forced himself to look to their future.

He strode towards Angela and placed an arm around her shoulders. Angela leaned into his touch and turned her face up to him. She looked just like she had as a curious toddler and Lance felt the pain subside once more with an overwhelming wave of love. “Come on,” he said, gently guiding her towards the car. “Time to go.”

* * *

Altea Bay was a rather large town, closer to a city than the coastal settlement it had started as. Lance knew that it was a rather historical place. He also knew it was a seven hour drive from his parents’ place and only an hour’s drive from where he’d gone to college. Despite his dreams of far-flung travel and living across the country or even settling down in _Spain_ , Lance really hadn’t managed to get very far, only moving around the state until he and Allura had managed to settle. Not that he could complain: he loved his life so far, especially since it had given him Angela.

It did mean that, when they moved out of the overly large house and into a smaller one, Lance had looked for something that wouldn’t require long hours of travel to reach the aquarium where he worked. There wasn’t anything wrong with driving for that long and he knew he could do it, but he figured it would be better to be _closer_ rather than further away. So, instead of moving to another town and dragging Angela away from her friends and out of school to another one further away (especially with Angela preparing to go to college), Lance had found a smaller, cosier house just across the town and practically around the corner from the aquarium.

Since they’d lived on the richer side of Altea Bay, Lance and Angela hardly ever went to the part of town they were going to be living in. Of course, Lance had driven by a lot of the things that would be available to them, but he never stopped to see how good they were or what they were like. Everything would be new to them, even the park that was close by - there was another one around the corner from their old house that was filled with beautiful flowers rather than wide open places. Lance and Allura had loved to go for walks along their winding paths and Angela had inherited their love for it. Or she had merely been accompanying her father so he wouldn’t break down in his grief.

All that meant that Angela practically had her head hanging out of the window. As Lance followed the moving van, she chattered away about everything she was seeing. She even managed to spot some people that they both knew. Angela had a penchant for collecting gossip: Lance knew enough about everyone at her school that he could hold rather awkward conversations with them, even though he couldn’t tell them apart in a police lineup. As he drove, he occasionally looked over at her, aware that Angela was trying to avoid thinking about leaving their home and her worries about the new house.

Lance hoped that he was correct, that this move _was_ the best thing - for _both_ of them.

Finally, they turned into the cul-de-sac that they would be living in from now on. All of the houses looked similar, still large enough to indicate how well off everyone was. Their walls were painted pale colours: red and yellow and green and cream. They drove past all of them until they got to the last house, the one that faced the road. According to the estate agent, they had gotten the cheapest one in the little area, since apparently not many people wanted to be facing the small piece of road that led to their homes. Lance hadn’t cared because he’d managed to get the pale blue house.

“Ooh!” Angela exclaimed, leaning forward to peer at it as the moving van swung into place at the kerb. “Pretty!”

“Yeah!” Lance replied, cheerfully. “It’s clearly the best one here, right?”

“Hm… I dunno.” Angela pointed down the road at the pale red one. “I like that one, too.”

“Tch! Ours is better,” Lance insisted.

Angela laughed. “Okay, okay. You don’t need to get competitive about it.” She gave him a stern look, marred by her amused smile. “Be nice to whoever owns that place, okay?”

“Okay,” Lance whined, drawing out the vowels. By that point, they had driven up the driveway and Lance threw the car into park. He turned to Angela. “So,” he said. “Are you ready to see our new home? Although… There _will_ be a lot of boxes. And we probably won’t be able to see anything because of them…”

Pretending to roll up her sleeves, Angela nodded. “I’m ready.”

“I hope you’re ready for the heavy lifting, too,” Lance added. “I am. See?” He flexed. “Look at these guns.”

“Urgh, _Dad_.” Angela groaned for a long moment and opened her door. “ _Nobody_ says that any more. It’s tacky.” And she slipped from the car so she could swing the door shut with a sense of finality.

Chuckling, Lance unbuckled his seatbelt and got out as well. It was time to get to work - maybe it would distract him from the sense of loss that hovered at the edge of his awareness.

* * *

After a couple of hours of moving boxes and finding space for them in the relevant rooms and unpacking some of them and arguing about where to place things, Lance and Angela took a break. Thankfully, they had unpacked and set up the television and games consoles (though they still had to set up the router and, consequently, Netflix), so they settled down on their new couch and played some of the games they could. Or, rather, Angela challenged Lance to a Mario Kart tournament when she claimed that he didn’t want to play it because he knew he’d lose. Lance couldn’t let her think that and so he’d stuck it on.

They were in the middle of Rainbow Road when there was a knock at the door. Lance and Angela glanced quickly at each other before hastily returning their attention to the screen. “Go answer the door,” Lance told Angela while frantically trying to keep his kart on the road.

“Nuh uh,” Angela said, leaning over in an effort to distract him.

“I’m your dad and I’m the one telling you to go answer the door.”

“You’re the one who moved us here so you need to go make nice with the neighbours. Not _my_ fault we’re here.”

Lance opened his mouth to retort, realised that he didn’t have one, and grimaced. “Touché,” he said instead as he quickly paused the game and stood. He placed his controller on a box out of Angela’s reach and made his way to the front door.

What he found on the other side was not something he had ever been expecting.

“Hi!” said the man, cheerfully. He was big and bulky, though his smile made him look softer and cuddly. His grin made his eyes crinkle up, their chocolatey brown colour warm and welcoming. A neatly trimmed beard made him look older since the rest of his skin was smooth and young-looking, with only a few wrinkles around his eyes to betray his aging body. An orange headband kept his brown hair from his eyes and matched the sunny colour of his yellow, tie-dyed t-shirt. To complement his outfit, he wore a pair of brown cargo shorts and sandals, thankfully without any socks. A plate of cookies were in his hands, though Lance only spare them a glance. The man opened his mouth to say something else and stopped, jaw dropping.

“Hunk!” Lance exclaimed in surprise and excitement.

“Lance?!” Hunk said, clearly shocked. “What-? Are you…?”

“I just moved in,” Lance explained, aware that Hunk was having difficulty in processing this. It was blowing Lance’s mind, too.

“Oh, my God, dude!” Hunk exclaimed. “It’s been years!” And, making sure the plate was held out of the way, Hunk drew Lance into a one-armed hug. Lance reciprocated with both arms, wrapping them around Hunk’s familiar frame. Even without Hunk picking him up as he used to do, Lance felt comforted, as if he was smoothing away the unease of leaving Allura’s home behind.

“I know!” Lance said, patting Hunk on the back. He didn’t want to move away from Hunk, but he really wanted to talk to him, so he forced himself to pull away. “I didn’t know you were living around here. Weren’t you going upstate to do some sort of engineering job?”

“Ah, yeah…” Hunk gave him a sheepish look. “It sorta… fell through? The company went bust and I had to get a job in a restaurant.”

“Holy crap, I missed your cooking?!” Lance exclaimed, grabbing hold of Hunk’s thick arm. His biceps were still as big as they had been; Lance’s heart thumped a little harder. “Aw, man!”

“Well, I’ve got these,” Hunk said, lifting the plate. “To welcome you to the neighbourhood. I didn’t know who you were so they’re just simple sugar cookies, in case someone was allergic to anything.”

Lance looked down at the plate and found himself looking at perfectly circular cookies, all of them decorated in a variety of colours. Each one had a different word on them, every one welcoming them in several languages: _welcome, bienvenue, bienvenido, bienvenida, benvenuta, welina, willkommen_. The sight made Lance smile, his heart fluttering at the thoughtfulness.

“Wow,” he said. “What a welcome.”

Hunk grinned, blushing a little. “Well, it’s a lovely place and I just wanted to show that to… you, I suppose. Man, I would _not_ have expected to see you out here.” He paused, his smile falling a little. “Are-?”

“Dad?”

Jolting in surprise, Lance turned to see Angela poking her head out from the living room. She blinked at Hunk in bewilderment before her gaze dropped to the plate and zeroed in. With a glance at Lance, she slid from the doorway and sidled up to Hunk. She sent Lance a questioning look so he took it upon himself to do the introductions. “This is Hunk,” Lance told her. “We were best friends in high school and college. Kinda… fell out of contact with him, though…” Lance turned back to Hunk with a grimace. “I’m really sorry, bud. Just… Life, y’know?”

“Oh, I hear ya,” said Hunk, nodding.

“I’m Angela,” said Lance’s daughter, drawing closer to the cookies. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’ve actually met you when you were a kid,” Hunk informed her, grinning. “You were so small and cute.”

“Really?” Angela blinked up at him. “I… Sorry, I don’t remember you.” She made an apologetic grimace which had Hunk grinning in amusement.

“That’s okay,” Hunk told her, kindly. “I didn’t get the chance to hang out with your dad so much when you were born. A lot of things were changing around us and time just…”

“Slipped away from us,” Lance finished, smiling fondly at Hunk, glad he was being so understanding.

“Huh. So, uh, you live around here?” Angela asked, her eyes flicking down to the plate. Lance narrowed his eyes at her, well aware that she had inherited both Lance and Allura’s love of good food - and Hunk’s food was the _best_ food, something both he and Allura had always agreed on.

“Yeah, just next door.” Hunk pointed to his right and Lance and Angela’s left. Quickly drawing on his memory of the layout of the cul-de-sac, Lance quickly realised that Hunk was living in the pale yellow house. It suited him, Lance thought, the warm, soft colour matching his personality perfectly. “I just came over to give you welcome cookies.”

“Oh, cool!” Angela swiped the plate from Hunk’s hand and Hunk was left blinking at the swiftness of it. “I’ll take these inside and you guys can catch up.”

“Wai-! Hang on!” Lance exclaimed. He lunged for the plate as well and only just managed to catch hold of one of the cookies. Since they hadn’t eaten much for lunch - just a quick sandwich they’d made up before they left the other house - Lance was sure he’d never get to eat one otherwise. As Angela made her retreat, Lance turned back to Hunk. “Sorry about her. We’ve not really eaten much today.”

“Nah, man, that’s cool,” Hunk said, smiling. “Moving’s a lot and having to talk to someone new at the same time…”

Smiling, Lance glanced away, glad that his friend had barely changed. “Yeah. Thanks, man, for understanding. You’ve always been great like that.”

“Ah?” said Hunk. Lance glanced up when Hunk didn’t say anything else to find his head ducked. Hunk’s hand rubbed at the back of his neck and his cheeks were a little pink. He was just as adorable as he always had been.

The pause in the conversation made Lance aware that their interaction was coming to an end. But he wanted to prolong it, to chat to Hunk for hours upon hours about everything and anything. Quickly, he searched for something to say and realised that, though he had introduced Angela to Hunk, they hadn’t mentioned Hunk’s partner or daughter. “Oh, how’s Shay? And Kalina?”

Hunk grimaced. “Ah… Shay’s in Australia.”

“Visiting family?” asked Lance, confused at Hunk’s reaction to the question. Why would he not want to talk about his family? When they’d been in college and Hunk and Shay had started dated, Hunk had always brightened at the mere mention of Shay.

“No… She’s- She’s living out there now.”

“What, permanently?” Lance asked, eyes widening. How long had Hunk been suffering through a long-distance relationship with the horrible time difference? Lance wished more than ever that he hadn’t lost contact with his best friend.

“Yeah… It didn’t work out,” Hunk admitted.

“What?!” Lance exclaimed, a little too loudly. He slapped a hand over his mouth and grimaced, hoping Hunk wouldn’t see his expression with half his face covered. However, he suddenly realised that that was more telling and he dropped it, giving Hunk a worried look. “But you two were so cute together!”

With a shrug of a shoulder, Hunk gave Lance a small, sad smile. Lance never wanted to see that again. “Shay’s family business had more customers. You know how much she loved digging for rocks and archaeology - and they mine opals and other things down there. So she went back to help out one summer and, well, it was heaven to her.”

“And she just stayed?” asked Lance, aghast.

“Yeah. She’s a free spirit. And, y’know, it didn’t work out.” Hunk paused, shifting nervously as he pushed his forefingers together. “Kalina’s doing great, though. She’s into, uh, eighteen-hundreds Japan? Or was it the eighteenth century in Japan…?”

“Wow,” said Lance, blinking at the sudden shift in the conversation. “That sounds… Wow.”

Hunk laughed, the sadness from talking about Shay completely absent. “She loves history. I think I’ve learnt more about that now than I did in school.”

Lance snorted. “I think I learnt more over the last few years than I ever did in school. Trying to keep up with what Angela’s been learning so I can help her has been _super hard_. Thank God for Google.”

“Amen to that, buddy!” Hunk grinned at him, raising a fist. Lance immediately bumped his own against Hunk’s; somehow it felt as though there had never been a large time gap since the last time they’d done that. “Anyway,” said Hunk, his smile faltering a little. “I… About Allura…”

“Dude,” Lance said, placing a hand on Hunk’s shoulder. He almost laughed at how he had to reach up to do that - it wasn’t something he had had to do in a while. “I know you’re going to apologise. But you came to the funeral and that was more than enough, honestly.”

“I totally should have checked up on you,” Hunk insisted. “How are you?”

Glancing over his shoulder and into the house, Lance smiled. “I’ve got my little Angel. She’s been amazing and we’ve dragged ourselves through it. I’m proud of her.”

“Oh, no, man,” said Hunk, sounding strained. “I’m gonna get teary if you keep that up.”

Laughing, Lance shook his head. “Don’t do that! If you cry, I’ll cry and then this cookie will taste of sadness.” He waved it to and fro and wondered if it would be considered rude to take a bite right then.

“Ah!” Hunk suddenly exclaimed, his eyes suddenly wide. “I’ve got to go to work!”

Lance’s smile slipped off his face. “Right now?” he asked, hoping Hunk had a little more time to spare for him.

“Well, I’ve gotta go get ready. But, hey, we gotta catch up properly, yeah?” Hunk pointed at him. “And we can hang out again!”

Brightening, Lance grinned. “Dinner’s on you?” he suggested, referencing what he always said when Hunk insisted on cooking during college.

“Right! And movie nights.”

“Movie nights!” Lance pumped a fist in the air. “Hell yeah!”

“ _And_ there’s this thing I do where I invite all the cul-de-neighbours to a barbecue every month. Y’know,” Hunk added, with a shrug of his shoulder, “if the weather’s good. Some of the guys around here…” He grimaced. “I’m not sure how they feed their kids.”

Unable to help himself, Lance laughed. “Of course you do. A culinary angel, that’s you.”

“The next one’s on Saturday so, if we don’t get the chance to meet up before then, come ’round at three.”

“Got it!”

“So. Yeah. Gotta go. But…” Hunk suddenly launched himself forward and, before Lance could duck out of the way, he drew Lance into another hug, this time using both arms. Lance instantly felt safe and at home in his strong grip and he let himself be squeezed, well aware that Hunk was attempting to apologise for not helping him through the years after Allura’s death, even if it wasn’t his fault. Making sure he still had hold of his cookie, Lance hugged him back, patting him a couple of times to reassure him that he didn’t blame Hunk whatsoever. Finally, Hunk put him down and stepped back, starting to walk backwards down their path. “Welcome to the neighbourhood,” Hunk said, grinning at him.

“Thanks,” Lance replied, watching him go. Hunk seemed reluctant to turn around but, when he tripped over an uneven paving stone - Lance made a note to fix that at some point - he finally turned around to make his way home. Once Hunk was on his own porch, he stopped and, with another wide grin, waved his final farewell. Waving back, Lance eventually stepped back, swinging the door shut, feeling much happier than ever about their move.

Then he took his first bite of the cookie: the satisfying crunch and the sweet taste that melted in his mouth reminded Lance of the crush he had had on Hunk. His heart beat loudly against his chest as he felt his cheeks heat. Aware of his blush, Lance swallowed hard and retreated to the kitchen, wondering if he should try to suppress these rising feelings - or let them grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, please let me know whose story you'd like to see first.
> 
> (I know Hunk's the only one there right now, but... All the guys bar Curtis are an option.)


End file.
